


tonight's the night the world begins again

by insomniacjams



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniacjams/pseuds/insomniacjams
Summary: A New Year's Kiss.





	tonight's the night the world begins again

**Author's Note:**

> I don't love this, but I hurt and I feel something right now, and it's more than I've felt in a long time, so here it is. A new years fic, about January 1, at the beginning of February and just in time for Lunar New Year.
> 
> (I have no idea where Tyler and Jamie were on New Years. I don't follow the Stars and I didn't look up their schedule. In this universe, they were in Victoria.)
> 
> Not edited. Not sorry.  
> Title from Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls.  
> I hate it and it's wrong, but it's what you get.

Tyler's face hurts. He's smiling so wide he thinks his lips are cracking, skin stretched too thin across his teeth. He can't stop smiling. It's two minutes to the turn of midnight in his favourite bar. There are bras hanging from the ceiling and half a pint of Lucky Lager in his smudged glass and "Who even has Lucky on tap anymore?" Jamie's smiling too, smiling in his ear. His breath smells like deep fried pickles, like breaking his diet (again) and that's fine – Tyler's been on and off and on and off the same diet again for the last four months anyway.

He's in Victoria again. He doesn't know how he always ends up here, pressed to Jamie's side like they're together or something. Jordie is somewhere across the bar, yapping at some girl who looks like she'd rather be anywhere but here. Most people in this bar look like they'd rather be anywhere but here, except for Tyler. Tyler's great, rooted into his peeling red vinyl barstool that tries too hard to fit the vintage décor that rolled through the city years ago and never left. 

There's a countdown on the TV at the end of the bar. Nobody's watching – Tyler's watching the bar, and Jamie's watching Tyler. He doesn't know how he got so lucky, how he's here right now, one of his best friends by his side in his favourite bar.

Victoria isn't home for Tyler, but it's home to Jamie and Jordie, and he's grown to appreciate it the same way he's grown to appreciate them. Just like he's grown to appreciate this bar, the faded scent of spilled beer and the coke dealer that never leaves the corner. It's more of a home to Tyler than Boston ever was, and a piece of him hates it, hates that he still relates everything back to that when Jamie was never a part of his life back in Boston.

Boston feels a world away now. Tyler remembers Boston like stale bread and a hint of burning gasoline. He remembers Boston, but maybe that's wrong, because he doesn't so much remember it as he forgets – forgets seasons of yelling and screaming and never doing anything right. He lost a few years in the countdowns he doesn't remember in the liquor and the drugs.

He wants to remember this. He wants to remember the broken jukebox and the familiar smell of Jamie's aftershave, burning against Tyler's nostrils like a constant reminder that says: "Hey, I'm still here."

There's one more minute until midnight. The clock moves at a glacial pace. The bartender turns to the TV, so Tyler turns to Jamie. And Jamie's there, he's still right there – his wide, lopsided goofy smile, his big hands, his greasy hair – in Tyler's face like he belongs there.

30 seconds until midnight. 

The bar's erupted in a spew of chatter and bellows. The crowd is going. They've been here for a few hours now, bouncing from place to place until they came here. He doesn't know when so many people trickled in through the doors, pulling in all the riff raff from the streets like the punkers in leather vests and the homeless man with an unkempt beard, the hipsters with their metal rimmed glasses that remind Tyler of his father, and the emo kids that never grew out of the mid-2000's. 

Tyler doesn't know how he fits into all this, or how Jamie fits into all this. They're oddities here, the professional athletes in a sea of miscellaneous faces. But there's something else here too, a crisp and fresh anonymity, like nobody expects to find Tyler Seguin and Jamie Benn in a dive bar at the turn of 2019.

10 seconds until midnight. 

Tyler's not wearing a suit this year. He's not wearing a tie and he's not at a function. He's wearing a pair of jeans that stretch too tight around his thighs and Jamie on his shoulders, Jamie's in his face, Jamie yelling in his ear-

9 seconds until midnight. 

Jamie's crooning along to the song that's thrumming through the speaker, somewhere above their heads. He's sweating all over Tyler's shirt, and Tyler should probably think it's gross, that the beer spilled on his sweater is gross, that the old gum under the bar and sticky floors are gross, but he doesn't and can't figure out why. He can't figure out why there's still music playing, when the entire bar is yelling at the countdown now. He leans back, leans against Jamie- warm and solid. He doesn't recognize the song, but hums along anyway.

8 seconds until midnight.

He closes his eyes.

7 seconds until midnight, he opens his eyes again. There are warm hands around his shoulders, and Jamie's back at his side now, a second later. 

6 seconds until midnight, Jordie scrambles to join them, leaning against Tyler's other side. He sits here on this barstool, tightly wrapped in two Benns like a hot dog in a bun. He's never been more content.

He cheers with the crowd for 5 seconds until midnight. He throws his arms around the brothers' waists and pulls them in impossibly closer. Jamie and Jordie clink their glasses together above Tyler's head. He's shaking from laughter, from happiness, from the smile that tugs the muscles in his cheeks. He can't stop smiling so hard.

4 seconds until midnight and he's burning, sweating and gasping. He can't believe he's here, he's real, this is real- he grips his boys beside him. Jordie laughs, pushes him off, and disappears again.

And then it's just him and Jamie, 3 seconds until midnight.

And Jamie reaches up, tries to reach his face, tries for a gentle caress, but Jamie's always been a bit tough to swallow, a little rough around the edges, and a little stronger than he's known. Tyler goes with the hit, lets Jamie manhandle him until they face each other, panting into each other's space.

2 seconds until midnight, he's there, in Victoria- he's the reason Tyler's in Victoria, waiting, holding his breath, that finally this tension snaps with the promise of something more. 

1 second until midnight, Tyler leans in, like he's waiting for it, like he promises he won't turn away, pull away, silently begging, hoping, waiting – needing.

The ball drops, the bar roars.

Somewhere, a glass shatters.

And their lips meet between one stuttered breath and the next. Jamie tastes like chapped lips and beer and the last year's mistakes drowning in one moment, one moment that promises the next year is only going to get better from here.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to say that I don't write stories that are so clearly about myself very often, but that's not quite right since this isn't really about me. The truth is, I haven't been writing much at all lately – haven't felt the need. And that means a lot of things; it means I'm busy, I'm growing up, I'm unraveling at the seams. It means a lot of things that aren't necessarily good or bad, I guess. The truth is, I was doing fine, I was doing great, and the last few months kind of hit me all at once.
> 
> The New Year is coming up soon. Lunar New Year promises a clean house and a fresh start, but for me, cleaning house is more than scrubbing out the corners of my bathroom tiles. It's reflection. This past year's been good in more ways than I could've imagine. I've listened to new music and made new friends. I packed up and left a relationship that wasn't good for me, moved across this massive country by myself, rebuilt a trust in family and more. I got angry and bitter about hockey, and then I got better, because it's just a game, why you heff to be mad? I went home for two weeks over the holiday and lost two people. I met someone who changed my life. I fell in love with another city that can't love me back. I started a career, and I'm building myself a life – building myself a home.
> 
> I hope this feeling lasts. I hope this feeling never goes away.
> 
> I met someone last night, someone who probably didn't know how much he inspired me. I'll write you something real one day, but for now, this one's for you. This one's for the boy who cried in front of strangers in the bar last night when they played your song, just as much as it's for me. It's for new beginnings, and life looking up. Follow your bliss. You beat cancer, you can do anything. You got this. It's here for you: YOU CAN BE SAVED.


End file.
